The Signal & STATIC Co.: The Great Panic Rebrand

“Susaaan! Don’t you dare leave your station. You just clocked in.”

“No, Yohannes, you cannot sit beside Susan. This is not a sit-beside-your-BFF workday.”

“Macchismo, do you really need to flex your muscles in front of the customers?”

That was Horatio T., our HR.

Technically, he handles HR.

Unofficially, he handles almost every department because of budget cuts. The company couldn’t afford to hire department managers, so Horatio became them.

All of them.

Meanwhile, Dinah and Jezzie B. are gossiping nonstop in the hallway like two college students in heels, walking across campus with not a single care in the world.

Jasper, our intern, keeps spilling coffee in the kitchen, so Ishmael can’t stop mopping the floor.

It is chaos.

Imagine a jungle.

Now remove the animals.

Add employees.

That’s us.

Brenda and Philip are the only ones actually working.

Now, rewind to many moonlights ago.

It was an unforgettable day for me.

The sky was cloudy.

The wind was strong.

I was sad and slightly dramatic.

To be fair, there was a typhoon coming. So my drama had weather support.

I had just come home after ten years of living abroad. I felt like a foreigner in my own country. Everything was familiar, but somehow not mine anymore.

And I couldn’t believe I had to start over.

Then, in the blink of an eye, I burned through my savings.

So, naturally, I had to get a job.

I applied everywhere, but the job posts were ridiculous.

“Do you have 47 years of experience in this skill?”

Ma’am, that skill was discovered five years ago.

“Can you work two graveyard shifts continuously?”

I am not a doctor.

“Can you type 900 words per minute?”

I only have ten fingers.

“Can you close your eyes and keep your mouth shut when you see something… let’s say 20% not legal?”

No. Just no.

That was it. I was out.

This was my life now.

No work. No resources. No salon-silky hair. No foot spa. No chocolates. No massages.

And for those wondering why Oishi’s chicken and kibble are not on this list, it is because, dear reader, I had not met that smug little Shih Tzu yet.

I was already working here before he came into my life.

Maybe everything would have felt a little lighter if he had been with me back then.

Anyway. Back to my tragedy.

I was walking when I saw a bench.

I sat down, looked up at the cloudy sky, and opened the last chocolate bar I had brought with me from overseas.

I was waiting for the rain to fall.

Because obviously, eating chocolate while crying in the rain is more dramatic. I am not saying I planned it. I am saying I understood the assignment.

I was about to take a bite when a man and a woman sat beside me under an umbrella.

The man looked at me and said,

“Girl, why are you out here? There’s a lot of shade over there.”

Then he sarcastically pointed to the covered area nearby.

The woman, much sweeter than him, gently tapped my shoulder and asked,

“Are you okay, miss?”

Right then and there, lightning flashed. Thunder cracked.

And I cried out loud.

“I neeeed a joooob!”

They both laughed.

Then they brought me inside what we now call The Signal Co. building.

Those two people became my BFFs until now: Brenda and Yohannes.

Just so you know, Yohannes is the sarcastic one. Obviously.

Apparently, the company had a vacancy. Horatio T. interviewed me that same day. He seemed desperate to fill someone else’s position.

And I was desperate to be filled with salary.

So it worked out beautifully.

Now, back to the jungle.

Yohannes, my BFF and our official gossip analyst, came rushing in with a juicy scoop.

“Make waaay,” he announced. “I have news.”

Suddenly, the whole office went quiet and gathered in the pantry, where I was peacefully eating breakfast.

“There will be changes in the company,” he said.

Nobody responded.

No gasp.

No commentary.

No sarcastic clapback.

Not even from Jezzie B and Dinah, who both possess the spiritual gift of turning a small discussion into a full-blown argument.

Even Horatio froze.

His mouth opened like he was about to tell us to stop gossiping, but even he looked surprised.

Because “changes” could mean anything.

Reshuffle.

Layoffs.

A new system nobody asked for.

My eyes started to tear up.

I left my breakfast and went outside. I sat on the same bench where I had first met Brenda and Yohannes.

I looked up and whispered,

“God… is this change necessary?”

This company is not perfect.

The people are not perfect either.

We fight.

We argue.

We say hurtful things sometimes.

But we also laugh.

We solve problems together in the messy way we know how.

For years, I waited to experience this: to feel comfortable around people I see every day. They are not my family, but somehow, a little care grew in our hearts.

And I love my two best friends.

In my darkest days, they gave me motivation to go to work.

So did Pete’s nonstop reminders to file our taxes.

Jezzie B.’s heels clicking down the hallway.

Philip saving me from irate customers.

Macchismo, my crush, who contributes mostly by existing.

And Ishmael, who always has wisdom.

Speaking of Ishmael, he sat beside me.

We both looked up.

“I know what you’re thinking, Sus,” he said.

Before he could continue, I burst into tears.

“This is all I’ve got.”

He turned to me gently.

“No, Sus. You have your family. A house. That plant you barely water but somehow still grows. And you have that little dog.”

“But if I get reshuffled, or worse, laid off, I’ll have to start over.”

“Sus,” he said, “change is inevitable. It’s part of life.”

“But what if I don’t like the next chapter? What if I never meet people like Brenda and Yohannes again? Sure, I can still see them after work, but it’s not the same when you see people every day. You know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” Ishmael said.

Then he looked at the bench.

“I’ll tell you a story. Many moons ago, I was outside this office waiting to bring in production materials. A typhoon was coming. While I waited for Philip to help me, I saw a woman sitting right here on this bench.”

I looked at him.

“She was dramatically sitting in the open, even though the typhoon was clearly about to start. She had an open chocolate bar in her hand.”

I swallowed.

“It was me.”

“Yes,” he said. “It was you.”

He smiled a little.

“Then Brenda and Yohannes sat beside you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because that same day, I saw you in the interview room with Horatio. When I looked at you, I thought, I hope she gets the job.”

I blinked.

“When you left,” Ishmael continued, “I asked Horatio about you. I was curious because he hired you almost instantly, unlike other applicants who had to survive five interviews and a personality test created by someone with unresolved issues.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘She lived abroad for ten years on her own. Based on her story, she built a life little by little. Her circle grew in a foreign place. Ten years of living through constant change builds resilience. We need that kind of employee. Someone who won’t back down just because the work is hard, the customers are unreasonable, or office politics exist.’”

I stopped crying for a second.

“He said that?”

Ishmael nodded.

“Then he added, ‘She’s a little melodramatic, though. But I like her.’”

I cleared my throat.

“That sounds accurate.”

Ishmael smiled.

“You see, Sus? Whatever change happens, you will bounce back. You’ve done it before. You’ll do it again.”

He paused.

“Pray, Sus. You will need Him more in times of transition. Most of the time, change can lead to something better. But the transition is the hardest part. Once you adjust, things begin to fall into place.”

I nodded.

“Thank you, Ishmael.”

Then, from inside the office, Horatio shouted,

“Gather round! Gather round!”

It was Horatio T. and Cassandra Vaughn, the owner.

Brenda and Yohannes rushed toward me and handed me a paper.

Apparently, while I was outside being melodramatic with Ishmael, they had already created a meet-up schedule in case one of us got reshuffled or laid off.

I hugged them both.

We went into the conference room.

Cassandra was seated. Horatio stood beside her. Behind them was a covered whiteboard.

I told myself,

This is it.

Those are our names.

Dinah and Jezzie B. were holding hands.

Philip had his arms crossed, staring into the void.

Macchismo was pacing back and forth, probably making sure his muscles were visible from all angles.

Cassandra began to speak.

“There will be changes in the company.”

Then she immediately removed the cover from the whiteboard.

It happened so fast that nobody understood what we were looking at.

Written on the board was:

The Signal & STATIC Co.

The word STATIC looked like a lightning bolt.

Cassandra smiled awkwardly.

Horatio, being Horatio, blurted out,

“Our company name has changed from The Signal Co. to The Signal & Static Co. So nobody is getting laid off or reshuffled. You’re all stuck here until you’re ninety.”

For a second, nobody moved.

Then we all clapped.

Someone shouted, “Woohoo!”

People hugged each other like we were in a movie and had just survived something profound, even though technically we had only survived a rebrand.

Still, I was relieved.

Before I went home, I sat once more on the same bench.

I looked up at the office and smiled.

“See you tomorrow,” I whispered. “I still have plenty of shenanigans for you.”

And I couldn’t wait to go home and tell Oishi.

Please, Sus. Don’t.

—Oishi

The end.

Still Rising. Still Barking. 🐾